


Intertwined

by tsundoku (jaebumssi)



Category: Naruto
Genre: Akatsuki - Freeform, Akatsuki is Hiring?, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Before Pain's Attack on Konoha, Eventual Smut, F/M, I'm sorry if this is actually really bad, Let's imagine Itachi having more emotions than sad and lonely, Not a One Shot but No Longer than 10 Chapters, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Trying not to skim too much character development, Uchiha Massacre, my first naruto fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-11
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:20:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21754405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaebumssi/pseuds/tsundoku
Summary: After murdering the pristine Uchiha clan and crossing Konohagakure, Itachi is labelled a rogue ninja and forced to defect from the village. In his travels, he meets a fellow traitor of the Leaf. Together, they wander aimlessly and strive to stay hidden in the shadows, until a masked man cloaked in red clouds approaches them. He gives them a mission — capture the Nine-tails jinchūriki alive while the rest of the rogue group create a diversion to attack the Leaf village.
Relationships: Uchiha Itachi/Original Female Character(s), Uchiha Itachi/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 27





	Intertwined

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written anything in two years so I'm a little rusty, but hopefully it'll get better. Most likely a 2-3 chaptered fic with eventual smut (also going to my first time writing some) so bear with me.

Itachi always knew he was not a _normal_ shinobi. Sure, he would experience the rites of passage that every shinobi would — but he had always been different to begin with. Much like the stress lines on his face, he was older than his years and much more perceptive than other children his age. They often ridiculed him for being quiet, and attempted to get a rise out of him when he showed no interest in playing their games, but Itachi was unaffected and uninterested by their musings. To Itachi, the only thing they had in common was the fact that they were all children who grew up during the third shinobi world war. 

Itachi’s father, Fugaku, was the head of the Uchiha clan and the chief of the Police Force. In his opinion, opening his son’s eyes to the spoils of war would do a lot more good than hiding him inside the sheltered village. He despised the ignorant and oblivious civilians going about their everyday lives, dallying about in the faux peace within the borders of the village, taking for granted the lives lost on the battlefield all for the sake of their protection. Allowing young Itachi to see death would help him to appreciate life. War would sharpen his skills and build his character into a strong, young man who would one day take over as the head of the clan.

The day Fugaku brought him to the peak of a mountain, standing at the vantage point to look down at the battlefield casualties, was one that Itachi would always remember. He had only been five years old. After witnessing the bloodied battles, Itachi could not sleep for days. He felt cold and sick, and there was a never-ending dull ache in his chest. Every time he closed his eyes, he heard the sounds of clashing kunai and shuriken. Images of weapons impaling, piercing and tearing human flesh flooded his mind. His nostrils burned from the smell of blood — so much had been spilt. He could not make sense of the incessant killing between strangers. Distinguished only by the symbols on their headbands, he watched them charge at each other without mercy, slaughtering without blinking an eye. It was almost instinctive for them to draw their swords and smother each other with formidable jutsu. Kill or be killed. In the short amount of time his father and him stood there watching, the number of corpses grew significantly, piling on top of one another motionlessly, and when swamped with injuries and blood, ironically all looked the same.

“Father, why do they kill each other?”

“To protect what they love. Although they may seem like they are on opposite sides, shinobi have one thing in common. They are loyal to a fault and are willing to kill those who pose a threat to their lands and their loved ones.”

“Isn’t there a way to resolve it without fighting?”

“Hn. Who knows, they probably got tired of trying to negotiate for peace. Maybe one day you’ll live to see a different type of war.” Fugaku stared down at the bloodbath in the distance, his arms folded across his chest and his face tensed and expressionless. “Not everyone in this world sees things the same way you do, Itachi. For better or for worse, I want you to see first-hand the conflicts that result in war. And maybe when you grow up, you can stop the next war. Otherwise, that will be you and your friends on the battlefield.”

After the war ended, Itachi set his own foot into the shinobi world. His name quickly became associated with awe and praise, at both his intellect and skills. He graduated from the Academy a few months after enrolling, and became a genin at age 6. Itachi was the youngest member ofTeam 2 and the sole member of his genin team to survive an ambush from an unknown enemy. As he turned ten, he became a chunin. At age 11, he was recruited into the ANBU and promoted to a captain’s position two years later.

His swift climb up the ranks was unprecedented, especially since he was a child who grew up during the war and was not expected to have received much training, due to most of the village’s chunin and jonin being sent to fight in the war. Yet, while his achievements brought immense pride to his family, Itachi failed to comprehend the paradox of being a shinobi. Death, of his genin team, was celebrated with his own promotion to chunin. Life, of his ANBU team who started out hostile and militant, but unknowingly forged powerful bonds as they depended on each other to stay alive on their treacherous missions, was swiftly snuffed out by more unnamed ninja from other villages.

Itachi was devastated at the realisation he had slowly begun to lose himself. As a shinobi, he had to kill. His kind nature never allowed him to draw his battles out any longer than they needed to be, and held himself back from fighting whenever possible. His alignment with ANBU and the Hokage helped him to paint a clearer picture of how peace should be maintained, although there were many times conflicts and deaths still could not be avoided. At the expense of protecting their own, they had to execute safety protocols and rid those who threatened the village. Still, the Konohanin prioritised keeping peace within the village after the war, which was something Itachi held close to his heart.

The Uchiha clan, however, had their eyes set on redefining their clan’s position in the village and establishing their dominance as a founding family of the Leaf village. They wanted to reclaim the gloryand respect they had once possessed, and despised the higher-ups in Konohagakure for treating one of the noble founding clans like subordinates, and trying to repress their presence and involvement in village matters. Dissent between the clan and the village grew more apparent every day, until the day fate dealt Itachi the worst hand of cards he had ever seen.

Kill or be killed.

_No_ , he argued, he did _not_ give in to the ultimatum which most shinobi blamed their reckless executions for. It was by far, the only solution he could see that prevented a civil war, a possible international war should other villages get wind of it and decide to break the newly achieved peace by attacking Konohagakure. Itachi never imagined he would have to pick between his clan and his village, but the pacifist in him eventually made the choice that resulted in the least casualties. For preventing a coup d’état, the steep price of maintaining the peace in the Leafvillage, he was able to spare his little brother’s life.

The fateful night, Itachi donned his armour and hid his face behind an animal mask. He unsheathed his sword, slashing away at any Uchiha member he came across in the compound. His heart alternated between clenching and unclenching, as the taste of vomit filled his mouth. He had grown up around these people his entire life. In his fleeting pockets of time, he helped elderly members carry groceries and played with the little ones. The entire night, he felt his insides burn with pain and regret, but shoved and compartmentalised his emotions deeper and deeper, until he locked them away. With tears streaking down his face and trembling hands, he took he lives of his own parents. Their parting words, gently forgiving his actions and wishing him well for the arduous journey to follow — Itachi never revised those painful memories.

For the first time in years, Itachi took his mask off. He placed his hands at the back of his head and removed his hitai-ite. His forehead felt... exposed. So glaringly empty without the forehead protector. He bunched up the navy blue cloth in his left hand, tracing over the indented symbol on the faded metal plate with his thumb. The sky stained red, clouds hanging low and ominous as a flash of lightning danced across the canvas. A single ray of sunlight shone through a hole in the clouds as a breeze floated them along. After one last longing look at the huge wooden gates, he strengthened his resolve to turn his back on the village and walk away. Starting today, Itachi had one sole purpose to keep living.

_Sasuke_...

In the weeks that followed his departure from Konohagakure, Itachi kept his head to the ground and adopted a simple lifestyle. To rid himself of his connections to the Leaf village, he incinerated his ANBU attire and his Uchiha-crested clothes. He wore a high-collared, long-sleeved shirt with plain black slacks and an oversized beige cloak. When others were present in the surroundings, civilians and shinobi alike, Itachi performed no genjutsu, no ninjutsu and no taijutsu. It took substantial effort to suppress his chakra and his kekkei genkai dōjutsu, especially when he was used to having his sharingan activated from being on missions all the time, but Itachi swiftly adapted to suppressing his abilities and blending into small villages.

Truth be told, he had earned more than enough money from his A-class and S-class missions that his savings account would not dry out even if he had chosen to stay in luxurious hotels daily. Yet, Itachi being the humble and thrifty man he was, did not see any value in splurging on material possessions, which included a place to rest. If anything, he would most likely leave his wealth to Sasuke after dying by his younger brother’s hands. To prepare for the battle, he never retired his shinobi skills. Constantly exploring secluded and forested areas surrounding the small villages, he used them as training grounds. While he tried his best to stay far from village centres, where it was the liveliest and the most populated, he found his will especially weak when he passed by teahouses. Especially ones that sold dango.

Itachi’s mouth watered ever so slightly as he found his feet leading his body to the teahouse. As the smell of burnt sugar wafted in the air, mixed with the warmth of roasted green tea, his resolve weakened and he quickened the pace of his footsteps. This particular teahouse was far from the village and located on a wayward, roundabout path that few locals took. Besides himself, there were only two people inside — the owner and another male customer. Surely, Itachi could stay unnoticed while he drank his tea and ate his dango. In the worst case, he could just put them under a temporary genjutsu to make them forget they ever saw him. Twisting his logic and conviction, his tantalising sweet tooth had gotten the better of him.

He sat in a corner and pulled down the high collar of his shirt. The rice dumplings had been coated generously with a sweet concoction of shoyu and sugar. Picking a skewer up, he was about to sink his teeth into the glazed mochi, when the curtain at the teahouse entrance flapped roughly, announcing the presence of other patrons. A gruff voice accompanied heavy footsteps. “Oi, were you planning from hiding from us forever?”

Itachi stiffened. Had he been discovered already? Did someone tip off the village? Should he preemptively cast his genjutsu now? Did he have time to take a bite first? Before he could form a response or even lift his head to look at the newcomers, his glance involuntarily shifted to themovements of the other customer in the room.

Itachi had not bothered to scrutinise him at first, due to his bland and unassuming exterior. Taking a better look this time, he watched the other customer set down his steaming cup of tea, his outstretched hand inviting the newcomers into the corner where he was seated. Itachi’s eyes fluttered back to the teahouse owner, humming mutedly as she brewed more pots of tea in the kitchen, still oblivious to the rowdy customers in her teahouse.

“Keep it down and get in here, you two.”

He discreetly observed the two burly men who walked in. Dressed in plain clothes without any visible forehead protectors, they would have passed off as civilians if not for the fingerless, metal-plated gloves and the kunai pouches peeking out from under their shirts. They grunted but obliged their acquaintance’s request, making their way across the room. Speaking in hushed tones and occasionally casting suspicious glances at Itachi, who calmly sipped his tea and maintained his disinterested attitude, he heard one of them ask, “Is it safe to talk here?”

He felt all three pairs of eyes on him this time, and resisted the urge to sigh. It was comedic, how the three men felt the need to be discreet yet were so futile in their efforts. 

“I don’t think he can hear us. Let’s just discuss the plan one more time.”

Now, Itachi was a sensible man who constantly made an effort not to interfere with matters that did not involve him. Hell, he hardly spoke even when spoken to, choosing to nod and shake his head in conversations rather than vocalise. But as he heard the three men scheming to break into a pharmacy in the village, supposedly owned by an elderly woman who had not been in the past few days due to an old illness acting up, he felt his hands clenching into fists on his lap. _These ungrateful sons of…_

His protective instincts kicked in. Finishing his tea and his skewered rice dumplings, he placed a neat stack of coins on the table to pay for his meal. He paid no heed to the abruptly hushed silence when he stood up and walked off. He lifted the teahouse curtain and made his exit, walking to the back of the teahouse into the heavily wooded area, giving a moment for the chakra to flow to the base of his feet before kicking off the ground effortlessly. His feet landed on a study tree branch and he stretched out an arm to lean on the trunk. Hidden in the forage of the trees, he observed the teahouse on the ground, now a fraction of its size from his high altitude. While waiting for the sun to set, Itachi internally struggled against his conscience to leave things be, to remain unnoticed as a quiet visitor of the village he had been. In spite of that, he found himself trailing the despicable group from the shadows of the trees when they started to make their journey towards the village. 

_Let’s make this quick_ , he thought to himself as the men slowed their pace and stopped in front of a run-down shack. It had been fortunate that the pharmacy, which more resembled an isolated, dilapidated shop on the dirt road, was located on the outskirts of the village. It was almost dusk, the glow of sunset about to fade into night. There were no witnesses present and Itachi could easily put them in a harmless Tsukuyomi, forcing them into a slumber-like genjutsu to reflect on their crooked lifestyles. As he prepped his eyes to activate his Sharingan, he noticed the sudden presence of another person.

Itachi could have sworn her stealthy appearance was due to the body flicker technique she utilised. He quickly connected the dots in his head, deducing that she had to be a kunoichi. Nibbling on the inside of his cheek, he decided to let the situation play out before revealing himself. He was never one to underestimate his opponents, and from the looks of things, she seemed more than capable in taking down the dimwitted burglars.

She materialised a few metres in front of the burglars, using her body to protectively block off the pharmacy. Her frame was small but her body language was threatening. Her eyes glinted fiercely, in contrast to the soft dark hair framing her face. “I’m giving you one chance to turn around and walk away.”

“Who the heck is this?” One of them demanded, flailing his arms dramatically. “I thought you said this was an abandoned pharmacy.”

“I don’t know! I heard in passing that it was supposed to be.” Another scratched his head, annoyance and confusion plastered over his face.

“Whatever. Let’s just get rid of her and grab what we came for!” The third exclaimed, his fingers wrapping tightly around the kunai he retrieved from his pouch. The others followed suit, theirpostures squared and stances ready.

The kunoichi’s delicate features creased into a scowl. In response, she loosened the bandages around her wrists, revealing the sealing marks for ninja tools on her wrists. In a wisp of smoke, her summoned shuriken clashed one-for-one against the kunai that had been launched in her direction. She took a few nimble footsteps backwards, somersaulting onto the roof of the shop and kicking herself higher into the air.

Seizing the opportunity to attack while she was airborne, the men charged at her, their voices shouting in dissonance and their attacks in disarray. After she effectively blocked their barrage of ninja tools again, all three of them performed the same hand seals in coordination for a joint Water Release jutsu.

At this point, Itachi cursed. His eyes were still not ready and he was perched too high up in the trees to insert himself in the fight. If he chose to execute a jutsu from his hiding place, he risked exposing his location and would be forced to make an appearance. He racked his brains for a solution, unable to come up with any options other than hasten his preparation for his dōjutsu. With one eye shut, he used his open eye to watch her next move. What she did next had Itachi’s jaw dropping — something that hardly ever happened. 

_Fire Release: Phoenix Flower Jutsu._

She unleashed a volley of shuriken, interwoven with a sequence of seven seals, something he had memorised as a child. Exhaling fire-infused chakra, the flame-enhanced shuriken struck their targets and continued to burn after impact, drawing cries of pain from the burglars.

_Uchiha?_ Her jutsu was a distinct variation of the clan’s _Fire Release: Great Fireball Technique_ , a traditional jutsu that had been passed down by generations.

_Had she been away from the village the day he massacred his clan?_ Even so, he would have recognised her. The Uchiha clan was too close-knit to allow for strangers within the community.

Wiping the burning questions out of his mind, he refocused on the battle. She had managed to land a direct attack on them, but the execution of their combined jutsu had already been complete. In the same moment she expelled the fiery stars, countless bullets of water rained upon her. The volume of water produced, much like the three men who wielded the technique, was insignificant. She dodged easily enough, using a chakra-infused kunai to counter the drops that would have wounded her. A few droplets grazed her clothes, making small tears that superficially lacerated her skin. Finally allowing gravity to pull her down, she landed on the wet ground gracefully. Her expression remained unchanged through the fight, and as she stared down her opponents with a steely glare, they realised the difference in skill and retreated their steps. Hastily tripping over one another, they swore under their breaths and began to run in the opposite direction.

Itachi’s hand dropped from his face, his concentration broken and his eyes onyx rather than red. It seemed like his sharingan was not needed after all. The kunoichi had held her own without his help. He mindlessly chided himself for almost getting involved and exposing himself. On the verge of leaving the scene himself, he froze when he heard a shaky sigh leave her lips. Her knees buckled, causing her frame to wobble and lose balance. She clutched her side, gripping at the clothing below her rib cage, withdrawing her hand to see that blood had seeped through the fabric.

Itachi found himself beside her instantaneously. His arm wrapped around her waist while his hand pulled her arm over his shoulder, holding her upright. She blinked hard, obviously trying to hold onto her losing consciousness and stand by herself. Before he could comprehend his actions, he found himself speaking.

“It wasn’t really a fair fight.”

“It never is.” She lamented, wincing a little and unable to fix her eyes on him. She managed one last quip before passing out. “I think I had the upper hand though.”

_Did you?_ Itachi almost exclaimed incredulously, a tone he could hardly recall using before. He stared at the unconscious woman in his arms, feeling the warmth of her body weight on his andpicking up the faint scent of blood in the air. _What the hell am I supposed to do now?_

**Author's Note:**

> Firstly, I'm sorry for making you read the whole clichéd Itachi ordeal again. Secondly, I couldn't decide whether or not to make Itachi terminally ill (LOL the boy really is a tragedy on legs).Thirdly, I couldn't decide between writing from third person POV or switching between Itachi/Reader.
> 
> I'd just finished watching Naruto (late, I know) and the feels came crashing so I went to ao3 to find some more closure. I think I finished a hundred stories in a week and found sooo many Sakura-centered fics (she had never been my favourite female character) but the fics were so well-written I'm actually tempted to change the Reader pov to Sakura.  
> Finally, I would defo love to hear some feedback and more prompts about pairings/scenarios to write about next! Thanks for reading!


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